The Riftwar Saga

by Raymond E. Feist

  Pug said, ‘Who knows what girls think? From everything I can tell, she probably likes it.’

  Tomas looked thoughtfully at his plate. ‘Do you ever think about taking a wife?’

  Pug blinked like an owl caught in a bright light. ‘I . . . I never thought about it. I don’t know if magicians marry. I don’t think they do.’

  ‘Nor soldiers, mostly. But Master Fannon says a soldier who thinks about his family is not thinking about his job.’ Tomas was silent for a minute.

  Pug said, ‘It doesn’t seem to hamper Sergeant Gardan or some of the other soldiers.’

  Tomas snorted, as if those exceptions merely proved his point. ‘I sometimes try to imagine what it would be like to have a family.’

  ‘You have a family, stupid. I’m the orphan here.’

  ‘I mean a wife, rock head.’ Tomas gave Pug his best ‘you’re too stupid to live’ look. ‘And children someday, not a mother and father.’

  Pug shrugged. The conversation was turning to provinces that disturbed him. He never thought about these things, being less anxious to grow up than Tomas. He said, ‘I expect we’ll get married and have children if it’s what we’re supposed to do.’

  Tomas looked very seriously at Pug, so the younger boy didn’t make light of the subject. ‘I’ve imagined a small room somewhere in the castle, and . . . I can’t imagine who the girl would be.’ He chewed his food. ‘There’s something wrong with it, I think.’

  ‘Wrong?’

  ‘As if there’s something else I’m not understanding . . . I don’t know.’

  Pug said, ‘Well, if you don’t, how am I supposed to?’

  Tomas suddenly changed the topic of conversation. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’

  Pug was taken by surprise. ‘Of course we’re friends. You’re like a brother. Your parents have treated me like their own son. Why would you ask something like that?’

  Tomas put down his plate, troubled. ‘I don’t know. It’s just that sometimes I think this will all somehow change. You’re going to be a magician, maybe travel over the world, seeing other magicians in faraway lands. I’m going to be a soldier, bound to follow my lord’s orders. I’ll probably never see more than a little part of the Kingdom, and that only as an escort in the Duke’s personal guard, if I’m lucky.’

  Pug became alarmed. He had never seen Tomas so serious about anything. The older boy was always the first to laugh and seemed never to have a worry. ‘I don’t care what you think, Tomas,’ said Pug. ‘Nothing will change. We will be friends no matter what.’

  Tomas smiled at that. ‘I hope you’re right.’ He sat back, and the two boys watched the stars over the sea and the lights from the town, framed like a picture by the castle gate.

  Pug tried to wash his face the next morning, but found the task too arduous to complete. His left eye was swollen completely shut, his right only half-open. Great bluish lumps decorated his visage, and his jaw popped when he moved it from side to side. Fantus lay on Pug’s pallet, red eyes gleaming as the morning sun poured in through the tower window.

  The door to the boy’s room swung open, and Kulgan stepped through, his stout frame covered in a green robe. Pausing to regard the boy for a moment, he sat on the pallet and scratched the drake behind the eye ridges, bringing a pleased rumble from deep within Fantus’s throat. ‘I see you didn’t spend yesterday sitting about idly,’ he said.

  ‘I had a bit of trouble, sir.’

  ‘Well, fighting is the province of boys as well as grown men, but I trust that the other boy looks at least as bad. It would be a shame to have had none of the pleasure of giving as well as receiving.’

  ‘You’re making sport of me.’

  ‘Only a little, Pug. The truth is that in my own youth I had my share of scraps, but the time for boyish fighting is past. You must put your energies to better use.’

  ‘I know, Kulgan, but I have been so frustrated lately that when that clod Rulf said what he did about my being an orphan, all the anger came boiling up out of me.’

  ‘Well, knowing your own part in this is a good sign that you’re becoming a man. Most boys would have tried to justify their actions, by shifting blame or by claiming some moral imperative to fight.’

  Pug pulled over the stool and sat down, facing the magician. Kulgan took out his pipe and started to fill it. ‘Pug, I think in your case we may have been going about the matter of your education in the wrong way.’ Searching for a taper to light in the small fire that burned in a night pot and finding none, Kulgan’s face clouded as he concentrated for a minute; then a small flame erupted from the index finger of his right hand. Applying it to the pipe, he soon had the room half-filled with great clouds of white smoke. The flame disappeared with a wave of his hand. ‘A handy skill, if you like the pipe.’

  ‘I would give anything to be able to do even that much,’ Pug said in disgust.

  ‘As I was saying, I think that we may have been going about this in the wrong way. Perhaps we should consider a different approach to your education.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Pug, the first magicians long ago had no teachers in the arts of magic. They evolved the skills that we’ve learned today. Some of the old skills, such as smelling the changes in the weather, or the ability to find water with a stick, go back to our earliest beginnings. I have been thinking that for a time I am going to leave you to your own devices. Study what you want in the books that I have. Keep up with your other work, learning the scribe’s arts from Tully, but I will not trouble you with any lessons for a while. I will, of course, answer any question you have. But I think for the time being you need to sort yourself out.’

  Crestfallen, Pug asked, ‘Am I beyond help?’

  Kulgan smiled reassuringly. ‘Not in the least. There have been cases of magicians having slow starts before. Your apprenticeship is for nine more years, remember. Don’t be put off by the failures of the last few months.

  ‘By the way, would you care to learn to ride?’

  Pug’s mood did a complete turnabout, and he cried, ‘Oh, yes! May I?’

  ‘The Duke has decided that he would like a boy to ride with the Princess from time to time. His sons have many duties now that they are grown, and he feels you would be a good choice for when they are too busy to accompany her.’

  Pug’s head was spinning. Not only was he to learn to ride, a skill limited to the nobility for the most part, but to be in the company of the Princess as well! ‘When do I start?’

  ‘This very day. Morning chapel is almost done.’ Being Firstday, those inclined went to devotions either in the Keep’s chapel, or in the small temple down in the town. The rest of the day was given to light work, only that needed to put food on the Duke’s table. The boys and girls might get an extra half day on Sixthday, but their elders rested only on Firstday. ‘Go to Horsemaster Algon; he has been instructed by the Duke and will begin your lessons now.’

  Without a further word, Pug leaped up and sped for the stables.

  • CHAPTER FOUR •

  Assault

  PUG RODE IN SILENCE.

  His horse ambled along the bluffs that overlooked the sea. The warm breeze carried the scent of flowers, and to the east the trees of the forest swayed slowly. The summer sun caused a heat shimmer over the ocean. Above the waves, gulls could be seen hanging in the air, then diving to the water as they sought food. Overhead, large white clouds drifted.

  Pug remembered this morning, as he watched the back of the Princess on her fine white palfrey. He had been kept waiting in the stables for nearly two hours before the Princess appeared with her father. The Duke had lectured Pug at length on his responsibility toward the lady of the castle. Pug had stood mute throughout as the Duke repeated all of Horsemaster Algon’s instructions of the night before. The master of the stables had been instructing him for a week and judged him ready to ride with the Princess – if barely.

  Pug had followed her out of the gate, still marveling at his unexpected f
ortune. He was exuberant, in spite of having spent the night tossing and then skipping breakfast.

  Now his mood was changing from boyish adulation to outright irritation. The Princess refused to respond to any of his polite attempts at conversation, except to order him about. Her tone was imperious and rude, and she insisted on calling him ‘boy,’ ignoring several courteous reminders that his name was Pug. She acted little like the poised young woman of the court now, and resembled nothing as much as a spoiled, petulant child.

  He had felt awkward at first as he sat atop the old grey dray horse that had been judged sufficient for one of his skills. The mare had a calm nature and showed no inclination to move faster than absolutely necessary.

  Pug wore his bright red tunic, the one that Kulgan had given to him, but still looked poorly attired next to the Princess. She was dressed in a simple but exquisite yellow riding dress trimmed in black, and a matching hat. Even sitting sidesaddle, Carline looked like one born to ride, while Pug felt as if he should be walking behind his mare with a plow between. Pug’s horse had an irritating tendency to want to stop every dozen feet to crop grass or nibble at shrubbery, ignoring Pug’s frantic kicks to the side, while the Princess’s excellently trained horse responded instantly to the slightest touch of her crop. She rode along in silence, ignoring the grunts of exertion from the boy behind, who attempted by force of will as much as horsemanship to keep his recalcitrant mount moving.

  Pug felt the first stirring of hunger, his dreams of romance surrendering to his normal, fifteen-year-old’s appetite. As they rode, his thoughts turned more and more to the basket of lunch that hung from his saddle horn. After what seemed like an eternity to Pug, the Princess turned to him. ‘Boy, what is your craft?’

  Startled by the question after the long silence, Pug stammered his reply. ‘I . . . I’m apprenticed to Master Kulgan.’

  She fixed him with a gaze that would have suited her had an insect been found crawling across a dinner plate. ‘Oh. You’re that boy.’ Whatever brief spark of interest there had been went out, and she turned away from him. They rode awhile longer, then the Princess said, ‘Boy, we stop here.’

  Pug pulled up his mare, and before he could reach the Princess’s side, she was nimbly down, not waiting for his hand as Master Algon had instructed him she would. She handed him the reins of her horse and walked to the edge of the cliffs.

  She stared out to sea for a minute, then, without looking at Pug, said, ‘Do you think I am beautiful?’

  Pug stood in silence, not knowing what to say. She turned and looked at him. ‘Well?’

  Pug said, ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

  ‘Very beautiful?’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness. Very beautiful.’

  The Princess seemed to consider this for a moment, then returned her attention to the vista below. ‘It is important for me to be beautiful, boy. Lady Marna says that I must be the most beautiful lady in the Kingdom, for I must find a powerful husband someday, and only the most beautiful ladies in the Kingdom can choose. The homely ones must take whoever will ask for them. She says that I will have many suitors, for Father is very important.’ She turned, and for a brief moment Pug thought he saw a look of apprehension pass over her lovely features. ‘Have you many friends, boy?’

  Pug shrugged. ‘Some, Your Highness.’

  She studied him for a moment, then said, ‘That must be nice,’ absently brushing aside a wisp of hair that had come loose from under her broad-brimmed riding hat. Something in her seemed so wounded and alone that moment, that Pug found his heart in his throat again. Obviously his expression revealed something to the Princess, for suddenly her eyes narrowed and her mood shifted from thoughtful to regal. In her most commanding voice she announced, ‘We will have lunch now.’ Pug quickly staked the horses and unslung the basket. He placed it on the ground and opened it.

  Carline stepped over and said, ‘I will prepare the meal, boy. I’ll not have clumsy hands overturning dishes and spilling wine.’ Pug took a step back as she knelt and began unpacking the lunch. Rich odors of cheese and bread assailed Pug’s nostrils, and his mouth watered.

  The Princess looked up at him. ‘Walk the horses over the hill to the stream and water them. You may eat as we ride back. I’ll call you when I have eaten.’ Suppressing a groan, Pug took the horses’ reins and started walking. He kicked at some loose stones, emotions conflicting within him as he led the horses along. He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave the girl, but he couldn’t very well disobey her either. There was no one else in sight, and trouble was unlikely this far from the forest. Additionally he was glad to be away from Carline for a little while.

  He reached the stream and unsaddled the mounts; he brushed away the damp saddle and girth marks, then left their reins upon the ground. The palfrey was trained to ground-tie, and the draft horse showed no inclination to wander far. They cropped grass while Pug found a comfortable spot to sit. He considered the situation and found himself perplexed. Carline was still the loveliest girl he had ever seen, but her manner was quickly taking the sheen off his fascination. For the moment his stomach was of larger concern than the girl of his dreams. He thought perhaps there was more to this love business than he had imagined.

  He amused himself for a while by speculation on that. When he grew bored, he went to look for stones in the water. He hadn’t had much opportunity to practice with his sling of late, and now was a good time. He found several smooth stones and took out his sling. He practiced by picking out targets among the small trees some distance off, startling the birds in residence there. He hit several clusters of bitter berries, missing only one target out of six. Satisfied his aim was still as good as always, he tucked his sling in his belt. He found several more stones that looked especially promising and put them in his pouch. He judged the girl must be nearly through, and he started toward the horses to saddle them so that when she called, he’d be ready.

  As he reached the Princess’s horse, a scream sounded from the other side of the hill. He dropped the Princess’s saddle and raced to the crest and, when he cleared the ridge, stopped in shock. The hair on his neck and arms stood on end.

  The Princess was running, and close in pursuit were a pair of trolls. Trolls usually didn’t venture this far from the forest, and Pug was unprepared for the sight of them. They were humanlike, but short and broad, with long, thick arms that hung nearly to the ground. They ran on all fours as often as not, looking like some comic parody of an ape, their bodies covered by thick grey hide and their lips drawn back, revealing long fangs. The ugly creatures rarely troubled a group of humans, but they would attack a lone traveler from time to time.

  Pug hesitated for a moment, pulling his sling from his belt and loading a stone; then he charged down the hill, whirling his sling above his head. The creatures had nearly overtaken the Princess when he let fly with a stone. It caught the foremost troll in the side of the head, knocking it for a full somersault. The second stumbled into it, and both went down in a tangle. Pug stopped as they regained their feet, their attention diverted from Carline to their attacker. They roared at Pug, then charged. Pug ran back up the hill. He knew that if he could reach the horses, he could outrun them, circle around for the girl, and be safely away. He looked over his shoulder and saw them coming – huge canine teeth bared, long foreclaws tearing up the ground. Downwind, he could smell their rank, rotting-meat odor.

  He cleared the top of the hill, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heart skipped as he saw that the horses had wandered across the stream and were twenty yards farther away than before. Plunging down the hill, he hoped the difference would not prove fatal.

  He could hear the trolls behind him as he entered the stream at a full run. The water was shallow here, but still it slowed him down.

  Splashing through the stream, he caught his foot on a stone and fell. He threw his arms forward and broke his fall with his hands, keeping his head above water. Shock ran up through his arms as he tried to regain his feet. He stu
mbled again and turned as the trolls approached the water’s edge. They howled at the sight of their tormentor stumbling in the water and paused for a moment. Pug felt blind terror as he struggled with numb fingers to put a stone in his sling. He fumbled and dropped the sling, and the stream carried it away. Pug felt a scream building in his throat.

  As the trolls entered the water, a flash of light exploded behind Pug’s eyes. A searing pain ripped across his forehead as letters of grey seemed to appear in his mind. They were familiar to Pug, from a scroll that Kulgan had shown him several times. Without thinking, he mouthed the incantation, each word vanishing from his mind’s eye as he spoke it.

  When he reached the last word, the pain stopped, and a loud roar sounded from before him. He opened his eyes and saw the two trolls writhing in the water, their eyes wide with agony as they thrashed about helplessly, screaming and groaning.

  Dragging himself out of the water, Pug watched while the creatures struggled. They were making choking and sputtering noises now as they flopped about. After a moment one shook and stopped moving, lying facedown in the water. The second took a few minutes longer to die, but like its companion, it also drowned, unable to keep its head above the shallow water.

  Feeling light-headed and weak, Pug recrossed the stream. His mind was numb, and everything seemed hazy and disjointed. He stopped after he had taken a few steps, remembering the horses. He looked about and could see nothing of the animals. They must have run off when they caught wind of the trolls and would be on the way to safe pasture.

  Pug resumed his walk to where the Princess had been. He topped the hillock and looked around. She was nowhere in sight, so he headed for the overturned basket of food. He was having trouble thinking, and he was ravenous. He knew he should be doing or thinking about something, but all he could sort out of the kaleidoscope of his thoughts was food.

  Dropping to his knees, he picked up a wedge of cheese and stuffed it in his mouth. A half-spilled bottle of wine lay nearby, and he washed the cheese down with it. The rich cheese and piquant white wine revived him, and he felt his mind clearing. He ripped a large piece of bread from a loaf and chewed on it while trying to put his thoughts in order. As Pug recalled events, one thing stood out. Somehow he had managed to cast a magic spell. What’s more, he had done so without the aid of a book, scroll, or device. He was not sure, but that seemed somehow strange. His thoughts turned hazy again. More than anything he wanted to lie down and sleep, but as he chewed his food, a thought pushed through the crazy quilt of his impressions. The Princess!